It takes a few days to shake off what happened in the alley. I feel like I’m being a big weenie about it, but Taran soothes my worries away with just a touch and a kiss. Cassandra hovers over me, which is worrisome on its own. It’s nice, actually. I think the woman is finally warming up to me.

She even brings me coffee. Sometimes.

Well, one time.

That’s a huge step for us.

I wrap up a phone call with our accountant, not feeling really good about our prospects to meet bills. Something Cassandra said only a few weeks ago. We have to figure out something to bring in fresh art to sell to keep our doors open or the gallery will be in trouble.

So, I’ll just go about this the old-fashioned way.

Brainstorm.

With a clean sheet of paper, I set aside my concerns and start listing all the things we can do to attract new talent to showcase.

A tap on the door interrupts me. I look up to see Cassandra. “Someone’s here to talk to you. She said you emailed her last week?”

“Did she give a name?”

“No but she… well, just come talk to her.”

Cassandra code for I don’t want to deal with this one.

Fair enough. We each have clients we’d prefer not to deal with.

I walk out into the gallery proper to see a familiar head of burgundy hair with gold and purple streaks. She’s dressed in a black silk shirt and black jeans and boots, standing in front of one of our premier artists that we feature regularly.

“Annika!” I really am glad to see her. “I didn’t think you ever got out of your shop.”

She turns to her name and gives me a quiet, but genuine smile. She drops her crossed arms and meets me in the middle of the gallery. “Ugh,” she says with a tilt of her head. “Errands. More specifically, bills.”

“I know the feeling. I just got off the phone with my accountant. Just once I’d like her to call me with good news.” I motion for her to sit on one of the leather covered benches.

Annika joins me on the bench, her attention back on the large piece of art hanging on the wall. “Felix is still around, I see.”

“I think Felix will keep painting until he’s dead.”

“People love him. You can’t go wrong featuring his work on your show floor.”

I look at the image. It’s a full face of a dog, with a lolling tongue and a goofy expression. You wouldn’t think folk art like that would sell but it does. “Unfortunately, it sells best during arts and craft season when the craft fairs roll into town.”

“That’s true.”

“So what can I do for you?” There has to be a reason why she’s there. She’s such a notorious recluse that it’s rare to even see her out.

“I’ve been thinking about your offer. You know,” her hand waves at the walls. “To feature some of my stuff here. Is that invitation still open?”

Are you kidding me? I try not to bounce on the seat like a giddy boy. “Absolutely it’s still open for you. I’m glad to see that you’re willing to give it a go.”

“Did you want old art or new stuff I’ve been working on?” She pulls her phone out and after a few swipes, hands it to me.

The pictures are of what look to me to be new art. There’s a refinement to her style that she didn’t have before she disappeared. In short, she’s gotten better, which is saying something considering how good she already was.

A thought occurs to me. “Why not both? Feature your classic art and then a celebration of your return with new, never seen before pieces?”

She gets a faraway look in her eye. After a few moments, she nods. “I like that. I can even arrange the stuff I want to display from oldest to newest. And,” she leans in towards me, “it will be neat to see how much I’ve progressed.”

Great minds think alike. I laugh.

“I’m so glad you say that. We can even theme it as a progression of a journey to self-discovery.”

“You have really good energy,” she tells me as she waves her hands in front of me. “It’s positive and creative. Although I can’t help but think something’s upset you recently.”

I guess I look at her funny and she continues. “Your eyes look tight.”

“Tight eyes. Dead giveaway?”

“To someone who knows to look, yeah.”

I briefly debate the wisdom of saying anything about the mugging if she’s involved in some way. Then again, if she is, maybe my telling her will have her give something away.

So I tell her what happened to me the other night, minus the mention of being called a lizard. Through the explanation, I see the look of concern and sympathy on her face. She reaches out to take my hand in hers. Even with all the rings and bracelets on her hands, they’re warm and comforting. “I am so sorry that happened to you, Nosko. What a horrid thing. That part of the city used to be safe. It’s tragic to see crime start to move in and terrorize decent people.”

With her hands on mine, I don’t sense any guile in her. “Well, it’s over and I even got my wallet back with nothing missing. So I don’t know what that was really all about. I hope he stays away.”

“I agree. And you have a hot boyfriend to take care of you, so that’s a bonus, right?” There’s a twinkle in her eye when she mentions Taran.

“You mean your competition?”

She waves it off with a whatever look on her face. “At first I was peeved they’d set up shop right across from me. Then I remembered the words of my mentor that when a door shuts, a window opens. It’s cliché and trite but it’s true. I haven’t noticed any decline in business. I’m just as busy now as I was before I closed up shop. Plus I haven’t noticed his shop hurting any so… you know, it is what it is.”

I like her laid back attitude. “Your mentor must be someone special.”

“He’s alright, when he’s not being cryptic.” She tosses her hair over one shoulder and pulls her feet up to sit cross-legged on the bench. It’s a move that makes her look young, far younger than her apparent age from what I can glean on the internet.

“I found him when I went on my territory-wide walk about.”

“Can I ask why you disappeared for all these years? The internet is all abuzz about you dropping completely out of sight.” I match her pose so we can talk more comfortably.

“Needed to rediscover myself. I was losing my way, you know?” Her eyes defocus and she looks off in the distance. “Getting caught up in all the trappings of society and a shallow life. It was time to reinvent myself. So I dropped out for a while. Learned to meditate. Discovered that once I figured out how to do the poses correctly, that I actually like yoga. You should try it. It can be very relaxing.”

Yoga? Meditation? Not sure those are for me but she makes it sound inviting. “Yoga could certainly help. Meditation? I don’t think I can get my mind to be still for that long.”

“Like all things, it takes a calm mind and a focused heart.”

“I think your mentor certainly taught you how to be cryptic.”

She rocks back and laughs. “Want less cryptic? Let’s talk about how much you’ll pay me to show my stuff here.”

An art shark. I like it.

It doesn’t take long for us to settle on a price. The rest of the afternoon is spent talking about everything under the sun. Annika approaches tattooing from a completely different trajectory than Taran, which I find very interesting.

I think Taran would find it interesting as well, if he could get over his defensiveness about her.

“So, when are you due?”

The change of subject is just as abrupt as the subject itself. “I beg your pardon?”

She lifts her chin. “Your baby. When is she due?”

“Um… how did you know that I’m expecting?”

“Seriously, you’re asking a woman that?”

I’m not sure what to make of that comment. Although, it was true that Cassandra picked up on it, too, although she doesn’t know I’m pregnant as such. But she knew something was different about me instantly. “Twenty-three weeks.”

“Babies are so cool. I don’t think I want any right now. Still too early for me to have that kind of responsibility. Do you have a name picked out?”

This is such a surreal conversation. “Not yet. I’m still trying to get through the wedding preparations with Taran.”

“Let me know and I’ll work out a nice design for you. Maybe put it around your belly button in a circle.” She draws a ring in the air.

“I’ll…get back to you on that. I’m not sure I want anyone tattooing my fat, pregnant belly.”

“After, then. It’ll be great. I promise.”

“I have to ask,” I say, because I really do need to know. “When did you figure out I was pregnant?”

“Oh! When you first walked into the shop. There was just this—” she wiggled her fingers in the air, “thing that floated around you. I just knew it even though I didn’t know you at all.

That’s interesting. I have to wonder if she’s got some psychic powers like Taran has.

“Is there a neon sign over my head or something?” I look up as if to see something there.

Annika laughs and it’s light and full of fun.

The more I talk to her, the more I like her.

And the less I think she was the one who put the mugger up to attack me. It just doesn’t seem like her style.

Maybe she’s pulling the wool over my eyes. I don’t buy that. I can be a bit naive but I think I have a good sense about people.

Annika is good people.

After she leaves, my mood is elevated again.

I really hope she and I can continue to work well together. It may be too much to hope that we can be friends, but I allow that small bit as a dream.

Maybe one day.